


it's a terrible love that I'm walking in

by Merit



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Edgeplay, First Time, Hotel Sex, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-22 22:12:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11976090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merit/pseuds/Merit
Summary: JJ wants gold, badly. Fucking Victor Nikiforov is almost the same.





	it's a terrible love that I'm walking in

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the National's Terrible Love.

When JJ saw Victor alone at the bar, skaters and coaches and everyone else scattered to the winds, he saw his chance. To do what, he wasn't really sure, but he had several glasses of cheap champagne in him and he could almost taste his parents' disappointment.

He'd lost. Lost to Victor.

Everyone lost to Victor. JJ shouldn't take it so personally. That's what everyone said.

But he did. Because Victor Nikiforov looked so miserable, nursing the same champagne flute he'd been given when he first arrived. He should be happy, JJ reasoned. He should be happy he was still skating longer than any of his contemporaries.

He slouched into the stool next to Victor, even though there were half a dozen empty seats in each direction, his shoulder hitting Victor's heavily. He leaned into Victor's space, watching those pretty blue eyes turn on him. There was something cold there, colder than a Canadian winter, that stalled JJ's breath in his throat. Whatever he was going to say was lost, as he was captivated, staring into Victor's eyes.

“You're new,” Victor said, in English, rolling the words around his mouth as if he wasn't quite sure.

“Yeah,” JJ breathed. And he'd been like every boy skater growing up, posters of Victor Nikiforov on his walls, that was normal and his parents hadn't even blinked an eye. But it was nothing like having the real life Victor Nikforov stare at you with those beautiful blue eyes, hair falling across his face, lips gently parted. This close JJ could see the pale freckles under his eyes, the faded slick of the lip balm on his lips.

“Maybe we'll skate against each other one day,” Victor said. “At Worlds, or,” he shrugged, a sudden tension across his shoulders, the expensive lines of his suit jutting up.

JJ gaped. Victor couldn't be that oblivious that he'd miss JJ skating had he -

A bartender settled in front of them and JJ shut his mouth, blushing heavily, staring down at the chipped bar. “Last drinks, gentlemen,” she said, a tired smile on her face, eyes only on Victor, “The bar closes soon.”

Victor stared down at his champagne, a dispassionate expression on his face. “I think we've had enough,” he said, his hand suddenly on JJ's shoulder. He looked up at the bartender, smilingly boyishly at her. “I'll take him up to his room.”

She smiled at them in relief and vanished.

“I can take care of myself,” JJ said, trying to shrug off Victor's hand. But Victor didn't budge, fingers sliding upwards, pressing against the warm line of his throat.

“Would you like me to take care of you?” Victor murmured.

And all thought evaporated out his head, words escaped him, English and French, as JJ shakily nodded his assent.

 

 

 

The moment the door closed behind him, Victor thrust him against the door, knee parting his thighs, lips firm against his own. Victor's hand cupped his jaw, fingers calloused like JJ's own hands, and the mimicry made JJ sigh into Victor's kiss.

Victor's other hand snaked under the waistband of his trousers, already slightly too small, JJ hadn't quite finished his growth spurt and wasn't that making every time he skated his routine an adventure. JJ jerked as Victor stroked the tip of his cock, nails causing flashes of pleasure/pain that seared into JJ's mind. But just as quickly, Victor withdrew the hand, mouth leaving JJ's lips, pressing warm, wet kisses along the sharp line of JJ's jaw.

JJ didn't know how he did it, JJ wasn't sure he'd be able to do to himself and they were _his_ trousers. But Victor's hands were quick and sure, unbuckling his belt, unzipping his trousers, pushing down his trousers and boxer briefs in one fast motion, the crackle of cheap broken thread ringing in JJ's ears.

“Do you like this shirt?” Victor asked, illuminated only by the city lights streaming through the open window, the thin line of light creeping under the cheap hotel door. JJ stared back, breathing heavy, cock against his stomach, trousers pooled around his feet. Victor laughed, kissing his cheek. “I guess you do,” and he wasn't drunk. JJ had watched him all night but he didn't seem like the champion he was on the ice. And JJ didn't like him sounding like that.

“I'll take it off,” JJ said, fingers already reaching for the top buttons and this he could do, even with Victor watching him with heavy lidded eyes, sharing his breath, the smell of his arousal scenting the entire room.

He'd be stained too. JJ swallowed harshly, suddenly aware that he'd just kissed Victor, that was practically naked, he was abetting his nakedness. This wasn't anything he had planned. Isabella flashed in his mind, he had promised they'd wait till marriage, and at the time the words had slipped out easily. His parents had approved and Isabella had respected his promise. Always backing off after a too intense make out session, even when her eyes were bright, even when she was crossing her legs too tightly. And JJ had been happy to wait.

But Victor looked like a lost prince and JJ was a _King_.

He leaned forward, brushing the hair out of Victor's face, kissing him back. Victor smiled into the kiss, hand on his bare skin, tracing maddening patterns down his spine.

They found themselves on the bed, JJ tripping over his shoes as he kicked off his trousers, Victor undressing faster than JJ could almost follow. His expensive clothes left crumpled on the floor. Victor had his hand on JJ's cock, stroking him at a leisurely pace, his blue eyes on JJ.

“You have practice tomorrow?” and he didn't wait for JJ to answer, but laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Day in day out. But that's what we sign up for it, isn't it? All for the chance at gold.” Victor laughed again, soft and arrogant.

And JJ burned because he wanted it, he wanted it so badly. To wear the gold medal Victor had, to have all Victor's medals and more. But at that moment, Victor's hand twisted, thumb swiping across the head of his cock and JJ almost came then, thighs quivering. There's a thoughtful expression on Victor's face.

“I don't want you coming yet,” he said slowly, squeezing tightly around the base of his cock for a few seconds and the rush receded. JJ panted, staring up at Victor, wondering what he did want. “It is an interesting experience skating after getting fucked,” Victor murmured, fingers wrapped loosely around his cock, slicking JJ's precome down his cock, “Every landing, you're absolutely aware another man's cock was in you the night before. And I don't think you're quite ready for that.”

JJ shook and normally he had something to say for everything and everyone. But there was just white noise. When Victor left him, rummaging for something in the side table, JJ stared up at the ceiling, gasping in shock. Every nerve seemed shattered as if he had skated non-stop for hours and hours without a break. But it also felt so good.

He missed Victor's touch, even though he had only been gone for a moment. He closed his eyes, his own arousal clouding his senses, he could almost taste Victor in the air. He wondered what Victor, what Victor's cock would taste like. And suddenly his mouth was watering and JJ _hungered_.

He heard Victor shifting, but he didn't touch JJ and JJ didn't open his eyes. The squirt of cold lube across his thighs made him gasp. And he started, eyes opening. Victor was sitting near his cock, a pensive expression on his face, as the lube dripped out of a blue bottle.

“I think that's enough,” Victor murmured, capping the lid and tossing the tube over his shoulder. It rattled against something but JJ didn't tear his eyes away from Victor.

Victor teased a line up his thigh, fingers slicking through the lube, spreading it further. He wrapped his fingers around JJ's cock, stroking his erection, his thumb teasing the head of his cock, precome sliding down. Then JJ was left gasping again, as Victor's touch left him. Victor stroked his own cock, the darker tip disappearing around his pale fingers. JJ licked his lips, burning up inside, his cock harder than ever before.

Then Victor slid behind him, chest pressed against his back, knee sliding between his thighs again. His cock teased the line of JJ's ass, before Victor chuckled, “Another night,” he murmured, breath hot against JJ's overheated skin. Then he shifted lower, cock slipping between his thighs, slicked by the lube. JJ shuddered and Victor moved faster, his balls slapping against the back of JJ's thighs.

He thrust slowly first, his cock hard and hot against the tight muscle of JJ's thighs. But when JJ moaned, arching his back, squeezing Victor's cock between his thighs, Victor took the hint and sped up. Victor's breath was heavy in JJ's ear, his tongue distracting on his shoulder, his neck. His teeth leaving marks that JJ would have to lie about the next day.

He moaned again, rocking back into Victor, into Victor's cock. His hand snaked down his dick, stroking it in time with Victor's thrusts. He was getting closer this time, Victor's hand joining his, fingers threaded around fingers wrapped around his cock and JJ came.

Light flared behind his eyes, a million stars burst and died, as waves of pleasure overtook him. When it ended, his breath caught in his throat, his come splattered messily across his stomach, Victor was still fucking his thighs.

“You're so good like this,” Victor muttered and JJ wasn't sure if Victor meant to say that. He sighed, hips stuttering, as he came across JJ's thighs.

He sagged against JJ, long lean body making even JJ seem small, his dick still hot and JJ couldn't get it out of his mind, that Victor's cock was still there. Victor's come slid down his thighs as he shifted, curling around the crook of his knee.

“Think you can come without a hand on your cock, next time?” Victor asked lazily, running his fingers through the cooling come on JJ's flat stomach.

And JJ was nearly hard again, the tip of his cock rubbing against Victor's hand.

“I think I could,” he said, as if it wasn't a certainty.

 

 

 

The clock was ticking closer to midnight and JJ couldn't sleep. His body ached – he'd trained hours after the sun had set, snow falling in wet slurries outside of his home rink, he seemed closer to landing another quad – but his mind was restless, seething.

He couldn't help thinking of Victor. Victor's mouth, pink and stretched around his cock, Victor's hands, nearly making him come without even touching his cock. None of that had happened, not precisely like that, but it did help JJ from aching for it. And he was getting hard, now, even though he hadn't even touched himself, even though his feet hurt, his thighs sending daggers down to his toes whenever he moved.

He was hard, his boxer briefs tented.

He still had his posters of Victor up. He had still adored Victor, worshiped the ice he skated on, when he left for America. But he'd come home months ago, tail between his legs, his parents promising to make him great. And he still hadn't taken the posters down.

He hadn't had the time. JJ had thrown himself into skating again, a skating that felt like him. When he skated in America, it wasn't _him_. He'd started dating Isabella. He'd had his brother and sister to play with and he'd missed them too, growing faster than vines when he wasn't looking. He had school, something his parents insisted on.

And so the posters of Victor Nikiforov were still on his walls. Victor, from a precocious sixteen year old when he had shattered the competition at Juniors, to his Seniors debut, to his triumphant return after his injury. JJ had the classics.

Before he had left for America, JJ had stared up at posters, blankets pulled up to his chin, consumed with longing. But hadn't he just wanted to win gold? To surpass Victor?

JJ was consumed with longing again. And it wasn't just for winning gold. He wanted Victor in the bed with him, plain blankets dark against his pale form, hand sliding under the covers, hand cool against the heated skin of JJ's cock.

He slid his hand down his chest, barely touching his nipples, imagining Victor's sweet pink tongue lapping at the skin there. His cock came free easily, the boxer briefs moved down his hips. When he first touched his dick, JJ sighed, the relief intense. He stroked himself slowly, slicking the precome down the length of his cock. He could almost imagine he wasn't imagining Victor on his knees, light hair falling into his eyes, mouth wide open, just waiting for JJ to face fuck him.

He groaned. Hand tightening around his cock. He bit against his lip, hard enough to bruise, almost hard enough to break skin, to keep the next sound in.

Or maybe Victor was face fucking him. Victor would have a firm hand on his shoulder and JJ would just have to take his cock. JJ shuddered.

His cock was hot and dry under his touch. The pace he kept, fingers moving like a blur, was punishing, a hint of almost pain as his fingers arced over the head of his dick. He breathed in heavily, air whistling through his teeth and spat into his hand. The slick wasn't as good as Victor's lube, his hand not as good as Victor's hand, his skating not as good as Victor's.

JJ came.

It was pleasure, it was relief.

He wanted more.

 

 

 

He lost.

He lost _again_.

It bit at him.

No one had expected him to win. No one expected the unknown from Canada, who had flunked out of Celestino's training camp, retreating back to his ice dancer parents, tail between his legs, to actually win. More people had expected Katsuki to win and he'd bombed impressively, disappearing from the rink as soon as his scores were announced.

But no one had really expected anyone other than Victor Nikiforov to win.

Even though, at Victor's age, he should have been long retired never mind crushing the competition at the Grand Prix, Euros, Worlds. His type of skating should be dead and buried.

JJ stared down at his bronze medal, the glare of the cameras going off, the spotlights swirling over the podium. It would be gold next year, he could taste it, brighter than blood.

Next to him on the podium, Victor Nikiforov glanced down at him and JJ froze, the medal falling out of his fingers nervously. There was something lost in Victor's eyes, smile frozen, before he shifted, face mutating into something gracious, beautiful. JJ swallowed. The crowd surged forward, ecstasy in their eyes, the cheers ever higher.

He had to defeat Victor Nikiforov.

It was the only path to gold while that unreal man still skated.

 

 

 

The official party was long over, skaters and coaches had retreated to rooms, where the buzz and hum of music crept under hotel doors, the crappy carpet not absorbing any noise. His parents had warned him about the after parties, the sins he would see. And he hadn't been tempted in the past.

Until this year.

He swallowed nervously, palms sweaty. He cleared his throat wiping his hands on his jeans, before quickly knocking on the door. He held his breath. If he didn't open the door in two seconds, if he was with other people, he'd leave at once and would never do this again.

Victor opened the door, shirt unbuttoned to his navel, nipples peeking out and JJ lost his breath.

There were shadows underneath his eyes, bruising his pale skin. His lips were glossy, the smell of cherry lingering in the air between them. Victor leaned back, hair falling into his eyes, the crook of his smile dragging JJ closer.

“Are you coming in?”

JJ stepped forward, faster than he had ever moved on the ice.

 

 

 

They drank, first. Vodka poured into real cut glasses not the plastic rubbish JJ had back into his room. He watched Victor pour them each a shot, the liquor stinging the air, before he passed the glass to JJ. He drank, too fast, tears springing to his eyes, coughing and choking. Victor watched him, pushing back the drink like it was water, swallowing in one quick motion, muscles shifting down the long line of his throat.

“Another?” Victor asked and JJ shook his head, vodka still on his lips. Victor poured himself another glass, twice a full, and took a sip. The bottle was half empty and JJ wondered how long Victor had been up here, drinking. But when Victor moved, he was coiled grace, all control and strength. He couldn't be drunk. “Take off your clothes.”

The command startled JJ. Victor wasn't even looking at him. Instead he had walked over to the window, staring through the crack of the curtains, watching the city spread out around them. For a moment, JJ didn't move. But when Victor casually turned his head, his hands went to his belt.

He laid the belt neatly on a chair. His shirt following, his shoes toed off, socks tucked inside. Victor stepped behind him, breath on his neck, thumbs braced around the curve of his hips.

“Jeans off,” Victor murmured, hand spreading off his hip, toying with the zip to his jean.

The jeans come off. The air was chilly on his skin, nipples hardened under that and Victor's cool appraisal.

Victor whistled, low and appreciative. “No briefs?” JJ blushed, turning around slowly so he was facing Victor. Victor in his thousand dollar shirt draped over his body, tailored trousers clinging to his thighs. JJ was hard, dick swinging between them, getting even harder as Victor judged him.

Victor smiled. “You lost today,” and JJ nodded, shame rising in him. He wanted to win. But there's something missing in his routine this year. He needed a summer to perfect it, to get the music that would really appreciate him. Victor won, coasting to victory, the jumps exquisite and perfect. But Victor was here, the walls narrowing in on the two of them, rather than celebrating out there. JJ was young, maybe he was sheltered, but he wasn't stupid. He'd seen the Swiss skater watching Victor. Victor would be able to find a dozen others if he wanted. He was more than just the winner of Worlds. He was a legend and was only staring at JJ.

“Tell me what to do,” JJ said, lowing his head, baring his neck. He didn't move when Victor pressed two fingers against his pulse. His heart rate sped up, something Victor would have to notice.

“You have a very busy mouth,” Victor commented, bringing his fingers around so they rested under his chin. He tilted JJ's head back, looking him directly into his eyes. His thumb swept up, digging into the flesh of his lower lip. He thrust his thumb in and JJ immediately started sucking, tongue wrapping around Victor's flesh. “Maybe that's a good use for it.”

He stepped away. Victor ran his hands down his thighs, muscles somehow highlighted through the fine weave. He unzipped himself.

He wasn't wearing underwear either, JJ thought, feeling cocky for a moment.

Victor's dick was dark against the polished white of his shirt. He wrapped a hand around it, jerking himself off lazily, getting himself harder. Then he leaned back, almost collapsing on the bed, but he was Victor Nikiforov and he somehow made the gesture seem graceful and decadent.

“You may suck me,” Victor murmured, gesturing to his cock, as if it was a great favor he was bestowing on JJ, as if _Victor_ was the king.

But he shuffled forward, sinking to his knees, mouth wrapped around Victor's cock barely before he had finished the sentence. He reached up, hand spread on Victor's thigh. But Victor shook him off. JJ's gaze darted upwards. There was a cheshire like smile on Victor's face.

“Just your mouth.”

JJ shudders, teeth scrapping against the long line of Victor's cock. Victor's fingers were under his chin, tilting his head up and JJ moved with the motion.

“Be a good boy,” Victor murmured, staring at him like he believed JJ could be a good boy, could win gold one day. Then he sighed, dropping JJ and leaned back into the bed. “Suck me.”

And he did. It was more awkward than he had imagined, than it ever looked in the secretive porn videos JJ had watched. Victor's cock was so big his mouth, more alive than he thought it would feel. The taste drove JJ insane and he wanted to sink deeper onto Victor's cock so he could know more.

He wrapped his lips around Victor's cock, tongue stroking at the slit, Victor's precome eagerly lapped up. Victor was thrusting gently into his mouth.

“Think you can take more?” Victor asked, slightly out of breath, but JJ wanted him gasping for air, gasping his name. He nodded, carefully, pulling back slightly so that his gaze met Victor's. “You're a good boy,” Victor murmured, running a finger down the line of his jaw, across his cheek where his dick popped out obscenely. JJ's eyes shuttered to a close.

And Victor thrust deeper into his mouth. Victor was really using him now, short sharp thrusts, his cock breaching the back of his throat. The corners of his lips spread, his mouth truly engulfed by Victor. JJ couldn't do much, so he opened his mouth wider, tongue brushing the underside of Victor's cock.

Victor was breathing faster now, his eyes screwed shut, his hair hanging in front of his eyes. His mouth had been bitten red without JJ noticing, his tongue tracing the bow of his lip, as he thrust deeper, faster into JJ's mouth.

And JJ was so hard, watching and feeling Victor fuck his mouth. His hands were clenched at his sides, not touching, hadn't Victor said he couldn't touch. But his cock was hard and hanging heavily in front of him.

When Victor came his eyes snapped open, bright blue brighter than any street light streaming in, as came down JJ's throat. He moaned, cock still in JJ's mouth, excess come streaming down his red lips. And JJ sucked, gently this time, tongue teasing the tip of Victor's cock.

“That's enough,” Victor said, brushing at JJ's cheek, his cock falling out of JJ's mouth with a dirty pop. JJ swallowed, Victor's eyes on him, and it was slick and salty and it tasted like victory. “You're quite the pretty mess,” Victor said, voice raspy, like he'd just had his mouth face fucked.

He leaned over, kissing at JJ's cheek, pink tongue licking up at his come there. JJ shuddered, well aware that he hadn't come yet, that Victor was almost fully dressed, his cock nestled on his well tailored trousers.

“Do you like me like this?” JJ said, and his throat was wrecked, and he didn't know how he was going to explain this. Any of this.

“I do,” Victor said, running a hand down his side, completely bypassing his cock. “I think next time,” and he paused there, bright eyes frozen for a moment. JJ swallowed because he wasn't sure if this was a thing or it could end with Victor's next words. “Next time I'll strip your face with my come.”

JJ breathed out sharp and furious.

“But you remember what I said?” Victor said, mercurial. JJ stared back, wondering how he thought JJ remembered anything. He dick ached and he felt it was almost over the edge, held back only by the mysterious smile on Victor's face.

He shook his head. Victor licked his lips and JJ focused on his mouth, wanting that on his cock, wanting those pretty lips wrapped around his cock, tongue sliding down his length.

“I do,” Victor said indulgently, ruffling JJ's hair. “I said I wanted to make you come without touching your cock.”

JJ groaned – that sounded like torture at this point.

“Can you do that for me?” Victor asked, fluttering his ridiculous eyelashes and JJ found himself nodding, hands clenched against his thighs. “Good,” Victor said, and JJ leaned forward, into Victor's sun. “Now get on the bed,” Victor said.

The fabric, much nicer than his own bed, was almost too much against his hyper sensitive skin. JJ gasped, precome sliding down his dick, as he collapsed on the bed. He closed his eyes, suddenly overwhelmed.

“You're about to come again,” Victor said disapprovingly, tapping two fingers on JJ's knee. “Have you used these before?” He slowly opened his eyes, memorized by the round object in Victor's fingers. He didn't know where Victor had stashed that away. He shook his head. “It's a cock ring,” Victor murmured, “Sometimes used for naughty boys who might come too soon.”

He slid it down JJ's cock, ignoring his head. It rested at the base of his cock and as JJ took a deep breath, he felt the moment where he could have come, recede. He shook, limbs trembling, drawn back from the edge once again. The cock ring felt strange, pressing into his cock, unlike fingers or a mouth.

Victor uncapped the lube and JJ had given up caring when he had found the time to find them. Victor squeezed the bottle over his fingers, rubbing them together, before putting the bottle to the side. Victor ran a finger down his cock, smiling as JJ arched into his touch.

“I said no coming,” Victor murmured, fingers moving past JJ's cock. He whined, thrusting up into the air. But the air did nothing to relieve the tension and JJ sagged back onto the bed, breathing heavily. Victor cupped his balls, rolling them gently between his fingers, before sliding down further.

“Have you ever fingered yourself before?” Victor asked, toying with the flesh around his hole. JJ shivered, a bright red flush infusing his cheeks, and bit his lip. Victor looked up at him, nothing revealed in his expression.

“N-no,” he said, turning his head away, the word coming out choked. He swallowed, tasting the last traces of Victor in his mouth. Victor waited. “Once,” he admitted, ducking his head and shifting on the sheets. They moved like liquid under him.

“Oh? How'd it go?” Victor asked, lubed up finger circling his hole. JJ sucked in air, unsure of how to go on. Victor teased at him, finger sliding in, just to the first knuckle. “Did you go further than this?”

“Yes,” JJ said. “I went deeper than that.”

Victor hummed thoughtfully, finger dipping in and out of him, just the one, just to the first knuckle. Then he slid his finger in deeper, to the second knuckle, Victor's finger starting to curve inside of him. “Deeper this this?”

JJ breathed out. “Yeah,” he admitted, before the air rushed out of him, as Victor drove his finger deeper. “Ahhh,” he moaned, covering his eyes with his hand.

“Deeper than this?” Victor practically purred. “Did you try two fingers?”

His cock ached, the cock ring pressing against the base of his cock. JJ wanted to come, he had wanted to come from the first moment he had stepped into the room.

“Yes,” and the word was driven out of him. Instantly he felt lighter, and he let his hand fall away, to the pillow next to him. “I tried two,” he whispered, the words barely rising above the sound of their shared breathing, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“Hmm,” Victor said, a second finger teasing at his hole. When he slid the finger in, JJ was expecting it, but his hips still jerk, dick arcing up like a missile. “Did you like it?” Victor asked, fingers gently moving up and down, too slow to release any pressure, just enough for JJ to pump at the air fruitlessly.

“Yeah,” JJ said, staring up at the ceiling. It looked the same at his ceiling, in his hotel room. “I fingered myself. Two fingers. No lube other than spit and a bit of precome,” he paused, staring down at Victor, crouched between his thighs.

“Go on,” Victor said slowly, his fingers moving faster, thrusting deeper inside of JJ.

“When I was in America. Another boy showed me how to do it,” JJ said, blushing as Victor added a third finger. It burned slightly, despite the prep, despite the lube dripping down his ass.

“Did you let him jerk you off?”

“Yeah,” JJ admitted, ducking his head. “He was the first guy who did.”

“Was it better than this?” Victor asked, crooking his fingers, touching something within JJ that made him curl his toes into the luxury sheets. His shook, a trickle of precome sliding down his cock. His hips thrust into the air, the cock ring straining hard against his aching erection.

And fuck, no, it wasn't.

But he could barely think that, let alone say it, as Victor finger fucked his ass, drawing hims closer and closer to another orgasm. JJ ached to come and he didn't think he'd be able to hold back this time, not if he got close enough.

“I'll take that as a no,” Victor said, sounding very smug. JJ was too strung out to comment, pressing back onto Victor's fingers, spreading his legs wider so he could drive the fingers deeper inside of him. He thought about Victor fucking him, long dick spearing him to the bed and he almost came then. “And I think you've been gone enough,” Victor said.

The words barely registered with JJ.

He didn't noticed for a moment that the cock ring had been removed. Not with Victor's other hand tight around the base of his dick. But then his hand moved, stroking his cock. Soon he was fucking his ass with his fingers, other hand jerking JJ off. It was in symphony, it was off key, JJ torn in every direction.

When he came, long white stripes slicing across his chest, hitting his chin, the light stuttered out. JJ lost track of time, pleasure overwhelming his senses, after being driven to the edge for so long.

When he came too, Victor had his phone in his hand, the screen illuminating him like an otherworldly creature. He smiled down at JJ, phone dropping next to him.

“I couldn't bear cleaning you,” he said, dragging a finger through the come on his chest. “You're so pretty like this.”

And even after the evening they had just shared, JJ blushed, looking away.


End file.
